


full blood prince

by cerozeros



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Fluff, M/M, Scott makes a cameo?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerozeros/pseuds/cerozeros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles needs help with chemistry and Derek is not actually Severus Snape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	full blood prince

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw an au prompt on tumblr about sharing a high school textbook and leaving notes in the margins and I couldn't resist. So much for my physics project.  
> I just thought I'd warn you now: this is definitely unedited, as it was written in one quick sitting. If you catch any mistakes, let me know. Happy reading!

"All right class, grab some textbooks from the back and turn to page 84," Harris calls, even as the last part of his sentence is drowned out by the rush of students climbing over one another. Of course, this is to ensure the copies of the books they get are free of the usual doodles of dicks, have no suspicious stains, and have all the pages intact.

Stiles groans silently as he is beaten to the last book in moderately good condition. Surveying his remaining choices, he makes a face as he realizes that the three books left on the shelf are definitely not ones that he wants to flip through for the next half hour.

Biting his lip, he watches out of the corner of his eye as his classmates return to their seats. A resigned sigh tumbles past his lips as he crosses his fingers and reaches for the book that at least has the cover still remaining.

As he grabs it though, he notices the corner of another book sticking out of the crack between the bookcase and the wall it’s pushed up against. Stiles bends down quickly and wiggles it out from the crevice, noting happily that it’s in prime condition. He checks to make sure it’s the right edition and—

“Some time today, Stilinski,” the teacher says sharply, eliciting a few quiet giggles from the class and hidden scowl from Stiles.

When he sits down and flips through the book, his eyes widen in amazement. Written in the margins in clean, neat handwriting are little notes and answers to the questions on the pages. As he reads them carefully, he realizes that they’re incredibly detailed and understandable, and wow he finally gets that question they did yesterday in class.

When class finally ends, Stiles makes sure to slip the textbook back into the crevice, this time making sure that the corners stay hidden. There’s no way he’s letting anyone else get their hands on this.

 

 

 

 

“No, seriously Scott! This guy’s like the Half Blood Prince of chemistry!” Stiles exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air, as they walk to the cafeteria.

“What’s so good about a textbook?” Scott questions, scrunching up his nose in distaste.

Stiles gasps and brings his hands up to his chest. “It’s not just _a textbook_ , Scotty, it’s _the best_ textbook! Dude, I’ve been using this thing for the past week, and it has all the answers to the questions I don’t get, written out in neat black ink! The guy who has this textbook is a freaking genius!”

Scott just looks at him for a second, then nods along. “So, do you know who it is?" 

Stiles’ arms stop in midair. “Who’s what?”

“The person who wrote in it.”

“… No? But dude, I’m gonna find out.”

Scott pauses and cocks his head to the side. “Why?”

“Because, Scotty my man, this anonymous chem wiz is gonna help us pass our finals!” Stiles grins, “It’s genius! With notes like these, there’s no way he won’t get a hundred on the test, so if he helps us, we’re guaranteed to ace that final! Don’t give me that face, man,” he whines as Scott scrunches up his nose again, like the most confused puppy in the world, “you’re looking at the son of the best sheriff in town! I’ll be able to track the guy down, no problem!”

“… Your dad’s the _only_ sheriff in town.”

“Details, details! C’mon man, let’s grab a table, I need some lunch and a plan of attack.”

 

 

 

 

Derek frowns as he flips to the next page, because the notes in the margin are definitely not written in his handwriting, and they’re in blue ink. He hates blue ink.

_Hey man you’re a freakin genius._

His eyebrows furrow, because one, how did someone discover his textbook when he so painstakingly put it in its hiding spot at the end of the period, and two, who the hell writes a note that has _nothing to do with chemistry_ in a _chemistry textbook?_

He ignores it and continues to write his notes as he always does, but the next day he checks again and there’s a new note a few pages later.

_Dude who are you?_

The letters are thin, scraggly, and just slightly slanted. He scowls, because this kid probably just wants to copy all his notes for the final.

Looking around and making sure everyone was focused on their work and not him, he sticks his nose into the page and gives it a sniff. Underneath the scent of ink and paper, he smells just a hint of motor oil. Another sniff yields the easily recognizable smell of the Beacon High boys’ locker room. He makes a face—there’s no way he’s letting some dumb jock (and just because Derek plays basketball doesn’t make him a dumb jock, as his grade prove, shut up Laura) get his sweaty hands on his precious notes.

Just in case, at the end of class he slides the book into a new hiding spot behind the bookshelf.

 

 

 

 

After three more unsuccessful attempts at hiding the textbook, and receiving new notes every time, Derek growls at the newest note he finds.

_Dude I’m gonna keep finding it you might as well give up_

After a moment he picks up his pen and writes underneath it.

_Go away._

Satisfied, he goes back to answering the questions, and the issue slips out of his mind until the next day.

_I don’t get number 8._

Derek rolls his eyes, and goes back to his work, but when he finishes early and realizes there’s five minutes left of class, he glances back at the note. With a resigned sigh, he scrawls a quick explanation and puts the textbook back in its original hiding place.

The next day, there’s a quick thanks and another question. Derek just resigns himself to helping his unknown study partner and answers any questions in the margins for the next week.

 _Thanks half blood prince_ is what he gets in reply one day after a particularly complicated question.

Derek clamps down his grin before it can fully surface, and writes _No problem Potter_ back. And if he leans down to smell that mix of motor oil and sweat, and also finds a hint of the indescribable scent of autumn, then it’s not like anyone sees him anyway.

 

 

 

 

On Tuesday, Derek opens up his textbook to find there’s no question, only a quick note unrelated to chemistry or his identity.

_Harris had toilet paper sticking out of his pants and the class spent the entire period laughing until he realized. He almost gave us all detention but the bell rang._

Derek has heard the story by now, and he knows that that incident happened yesterday during Harris’ 7th period class. Well, now he knows what class the mysterious note writer is in—not that he cares, of course. Now he just knows to avoid anyone in that class.

He can’t help writing back though.

_Pictures?_

The next day, he snorts at the reply.

_Blackmail for a grade boost on the finals is printed and ready to go in a little white envelope. I swear it’s just sitting in my bag waiting to be exposed to the world._

 

 

 

The next two weeks leads to Stiles being pleasantly surprised as he and the half blood prince, exchange notes through the textbook. Most of the time it’s chem stuff with the occasional post-it if the work is too long to fit into the blank margin, but he does also learn that HBP is a guy (a suspicion that’s finally confirmed), has two sisters and a brother, is on the basketball team, and prefers dogs over cats.

He always writes back, and gradually, the questions about chem become discussions about everything from lacrosse to curly fries.

And, well, if he starts keeping an eye out for the basketball players in the cafeteria, that’s no one’s business but his.

 

 

 

 

Derek feels bad when he takes the textbook out of the classroom without letting Potter know, but he lost his home copy last week and of course Harris decides to assign them work when he hasn’t found it yet. _I’ll bring it back tomorrow_ he tells himself, because as reluctant he is to admit it he really enjoys the notes that he and Potter write to each other—even if it’s not really about chemistry anymore.

He’s carrying the textbook and a couple of notebooks in his arms when he rounds the corner of the hallway, and he’s so busy thinking (not worrying, dammit) about what Potter’s going to think about the missing book that he slams into someone. His things go flying and he hears the other person exclaim, but he ignores them and scowls instead as he crouches down to collect his scattered belongings.

“Sorry dude, lemme help you out,” a voice says, and a hand reaches for the chemistry textbook, which is open to the page that has in its margins the discussion of lacrosse vs. basketball.

The first thing he smells is the motor oil, but the first thing he sees are the moles. They’re scattered in random patterns across the hand, the arm, the neck—Derek doesn’t even realized he’s following the trail until his own eyes meet wide, startled ones. However, those brown eyes aren’t looking at him, they’re looking at the book. More specifically, they’re staring at the notes written in them.

The guy suddenly whips his eyes up to stare at Derek. “… Half Blood Prince?” he murmurs, eyebrows going up like they want to disappear into hair that Derek really wants to run his fingers through.

He jolts out of his thoughts— _where did that even come from_ —when he realizes the guy has got to be Potter—the person who’s been on his mind constantly for the past few weeks. His mouth opens and shuts as his voice refuses to leave his throat and his eyes wander all over Potter’s face, from moles to eyes to lips.

Derek goes red and without a word, grabs his notebooks and bolts down the hallway, ignoring the “Wait!” that he hears barely a second later. He spends the rest of the day avoiding all the major hallways and goes out of his way not to make eye contact with anyone, and he only breathes steadily once he gets home.

Of course, then he realizes he never picked his textbook up off the floor, and that Potter—he finally has a face to match with the nickname—must have it. He groans, because he doesn’t know what to do with his life anymore.

How can he have a crush on someone whose face he just saw for the first time today?

He thinks about it a lot, about how he knows that Potter is a huge geek (obviously), about how even though he’s been a benchwarmer for two years he’s determined to make first line next season, about how he loves flannel but doesn’t wear it as often as he would like because he doesn’t want to be grouped with the hipsters. Derek realizes the list goes on and on, and then he starts to think about how he really wants to run his hands through that gorgeous brown hair and how he has the urge to trace all of the moles on Potter’s face and neck and how he really, really wants to feel those lips against his.

He groans, because he has it bad, and he’s pretty sure Laura can smell his longing from her room.

 

 

 

 

After a sleepless night he walks into chemistry, and his heart leaps out of his chest when he sees the book peeking out of its usual spot. He grabs it and rushes back to his desk, flipping it open to where they last wrote.

His stomach drops when there’s nothing new, even when he flips ahead to the pages they haven’t gotten to yet. Sighing, he almost doesn’t realize that Harris is telling the class to turn to page 394. He grins a little, because it’s too bad Potter isn’t here to share his amusement at the reference. He frowns as he starts to turn the pages, but when he gets to 394, his eyes widen as he sees a note written in familiar blue handwriting.

As soon as he reads it, he snorts and tries to cover it up with a cough, but it doesn’t do him any good because his red face and beaming smile is giving everything away, much to the confusion of his surrounding classmates.

_Your name must be Severus Severus, because you're making my prince full blood._

Laughing quietly to himself with all of his doubts disappearing, he writes back and ignores how silly he feels.

_We may not be in Professor Flitwick’s class, but you still are charming._


End file.
